(i'll see you) in another life
by fantasmefantastic
Summary: a series of captain swan one shots in alternate lives. 2. lieutenant duckling. Princess Emma was never very fond of being queen, anyway.
1. suits you better

**title: **suits you better**  
****pairing: **captain swan - or should i say lieutenant duckling?**  
author's note: **oops i didn't write another chapter for _chasing drinks and dreams_ but THE LIEUTENANT DUCKLING FEELS. ahem. this story will be a series of one-maybe-two shots, starring captain swan, in alternate universes/lives. i have a few chapters already planned out SO YAY FOR THAT. the hiatus is basically driving me insane. can anyone else NOT wait for christina perri's music video?! **  
disclaimer: **I do not own Once Upon a Time.

* * *

"SNOW!" Charming bellowed, barging into his wife's chambers with the force of a thunderstorm. The queen sighed heavily and rose to meet her husband; handsome as he was in the royal blue and gray colors, Charming could be rather wearisome on her nerves.

"Yes, my love?" Snow asked, gently.

"SHE'S GONE."

"Who, darling?"

"OUR DAUGHTER. YOU KNOW. THE PRINCESS."

"Ah…"

"EMMA IS MISSING AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS _AH?_"

Snow sighed again, because really, they'd spent the past ten years wondering where Emma was, why on earth would that change on her birthday? The princess of The Enchanted Forest has always been more of a free spirit, an adventurer, a wildling. Her younger brother, Prince Neal, was a gentler soul, the quiet, polite young prince who took after his father in almost every way.

It was as if Emma had taken the bandit in Snow White and the hero in Prince Charming, and become the most willful child around.

(Snow wouldn't have it any other way.)

"Charming, dear, calm down…"

"CALM DOWN? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?"

* * *

The first time Emma had snuck out of the castle she was ten years old, and was playing hooky on her princess lessons—how to properly drink tea and greet guests and dear God, please let there be poison in this cup. Her brother had gone with her a few times, but Neal had never been as wild as her, and sometimes, Emma enjoyed the adventure alone.

But today, today she had _needed_ to get out of there. The castle was full of guests from far off lands, of servants bustling about with armloads of cloth and dishes, everyone plotting and planning her birthday. Planning the party, plotting on whom to force on her first as a marriage candidate, conspiring on how to make her brother fall in love with some spoiled duchess.

She knew her parents would never make a marriage contract without her say, but the thought of all the princes and dukes and _people _she would have to interact with that night—

Emma suppressed a shudder of horror.

The young princess, deciding she wanted to look at the ocean, doggedly made her way through the crowd, down to the docks. Flashy, flamboyant ships from other countries had joined the royal family's armada. The flagship, The Jewel, looked magnificent in the sunlight.

Emma took a deep breath, thoroughly enjoying the scent of the salty water as it washed over her, and briefly dreamed of a life at sea, as a sailor, maybe a pirate, with no responsibilities, no one telling her what to do or where to go—

"May I be of assistance, lad?" came a suspicious voice.

Emma froze. Dressed in breeches and a cloak, with her hair pulled up beneath a cap, most would think her a boy at first glance. Something in the sailor's tone made her feel like he was mocking her.

He seemed young; tall and slim, and quite handsome actually, with devilishly blue eyes, and raven black hair, swept back from his forehead. In the crisp blue uniform, Emma recognized the lieutenant mark on his shoulder.

_Bloody hell, _Emma cursed in her head.

"Uh, no," she stammered, lamely. "Just…looking."

"Right," the lieutenant replied, drawing out the "i" in a skeptical tone. "Where are you from, _lad?_"

(Okay, definitely mocking her.)

Emma scowled at him, "Not sure that's any of your business, _sailor, _I'll just be on my way."

The lieutenant blocked her way. "It would be bad form for me to allow a young maiden off on her own."

"I am quite capable of handling myself," Emma snapped at him.

"I'm sure you are, lass. Still, I cannot—,"

But Emma darted around him and took off.

* * *

Lieutenant Killian Jones entered the King and Queen's ballroom a step behind his brother. They were not royalty, so they needn't be announced, but the Jones' brothers believed deeply in things like good form, so Liam led the way to where they could receive the royal family.

Killian was a man of the sea; to him, there was nothing quite as beautiful as the waves breaking apart for the ship to cut through, nothing as majestic as the sun breaking over the water's horizon. However, he had to admit that King Charming and Queen Snow White knew how to throw a party. Everything was draped in shades of blue and grey, something about swans seemed to be a theme. Familiar music sang through the halls, though Killian could not see the dancing couples through the crowd.

"Captain Liam Jones and his brother, Lieutenant Killian Jones," the announcer, er, announced, and Killian bowed low at his brother's side. When he looked up, King James had risen, arms wide, a great, kind smile on his face.

"Welcome home, Captain!" the king cried, coming down the steps and embracing Liam warmly.

The queen—as lovely as porcelain doll, dressed in a silvery gown—smiled gently from her throne. The prince, barely sixteen, looked handsome in his blue waistcoat. Neal smiled at the brothers, and Killian was given the impression he quietly observed everything.

"I trust your journey was not too treacherous, Captain?" she asked.

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Liam replied good-naturedly, though Killian wondered what part of sailing through siren-infested waters wasn't treacherous. "Would you allow me the honor of introducing my brother, Killian?"

"Recently made lieutenant, and youngest man of the rank to boot," King Charming said, turning that warm, friendly smile upon the younger Jones. He waved off Killian's second attempt at a bow, and instead shook his hand.

"Your recognition honors me, sire," Killian said, truthfully.

Charming just continued to grin, "You earned it, lieutenant."

"_Mother_, please do _not _make me dance with the Duke of Weaselton _again_," complained a voice.

"Oh, Emma…" Snow sighed, with a small laugh in her voice.

"You must allow me the honor of introducing my daughter, Princess Emma," laughed King Charming.

Killian's world, quite suddenly, turned on its axis.

Standing before him was the brat from the docks, the dirty lass dressed in lad's clothing, only now she wore a beautiful white ball gown, with feathers falling around her waist, and a silver circlet capping her golden locks. He might have missed it—she had disguised herself rather well after all—were not for those brilliant, clear green eyes, staring back at him.

(She recognized him, too.)

"Happy birthday, Your Highness," Liam said, bowing low. Killian quickly followed suit, though he couldn't quite seem to take his eyes off the princess as he did so.

"Thank you, Captain Jones," Emma replied in a very princess-like voice, so different from the snarky grumble Killian had heard on the docks.

"The Jones' brothers have served us very well, Emma," Snow said, smiling at them, with the air of a mother reminding her daughter to be polite.

"I am glad to see you safely returned to us," Emma added, and Killian thought he saw her roll her eyes.

"You are too kind, Your Highness," Killian said, and Emma's eyes flickered to him, suspiciously.

"if the Duke of Weaselton is so horrid, darling, why don't you dance with the lieutenant here?" Charming suggested. "His brother and I have much to discuss."

Emma looked as if she would rather swallow an egg, and Killian couldn't help but agree—what did he, a lowly sailor, a green lieutenant, have to say to a princess, the heir to the realm, the woman he would someday serve, as queen?

"What a lovely idea," Snow agreed, and Liam nodded, and it was so.

Killian bowed, "May I have this dance, Princess?"

Emma sighed, and accepted his hand.

"I must say, the ball gown suits you much better than dirty breeches and a patchwork cloak," Killian teased, as the music struck up and he led her about the ballroom.

Emma scowled at him; "The polite lieutenant suits _you _much better than the rude sailor on the docks."

"Just following orders, love. No ruffians allowed so close to the King's Navy." That made her scoff, and Killian decided he rather liked the sound.

"I won't tell anyone, you know," he added, as she glanced over his shoulder to where her father and his brother were talking. "About us meeting on the docks."

Gratitude flashed across her face as she said, "Thank you, Lieutenant Jones."

He smiled, "You may call me Killian, Your Highness."

She rolled her eyes, "Then you must call me Emma."

* * *

There is a part 2 in process and by that I mean I will probably post it, like, tonight, because who doesn't stay up until 2 am writing fanfiction?!


	2. what is never enough

**title: **what is never enough**  
pairing: **lieutenant duckling**  
author's note: **yeah, this happened.**  
disclaimer: **I do not own Once Upon A Time.

* * *

A dozen missions carried him across the sea, away from her.

A hundred duties called her into the castle, away from him.

(But they always found a way to be together.)

* * *

"_Emma_," Killian whispered, barely a word escaping his lips—as if he could barely believe she was there.

"_Killian!_" Emma called, a shout bursting from inside her—as if she always knew he would come back.

Liam, Neal, Charming, and Snow watched, almost bemused, as the two lovers rushed towards each other. Killian caught Emma up in his arms and swung her around; Emma threw her arms around his neck and laughed. They came together and kissed once, Killian's hands gently cradling Emma's face, Emma's arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Ahem," Charming cleared his throat, and they broke up apart, looking sheepish. It had taken some time, but the king had given his blessing for the pair—displays of affection in front of him, however, were another story.

"Welcome home, Killian," Snow said, kindly.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Killian replied, bowing to her.

"Another successful mission, Captain Jones," Neal said.

"Well done," Liam added.

Killian saluted his brother, "Just doing my duty, Commander Jones."

"You've done very well, Captain," King Charming said, adjusting the heavy fur cloak across his shoulders. "I believe a holiday is in order."

"Thank you, sire," Killian said, with a bow.

Emma could scarcely believe her ears. Killian was forever going on out performing his services, doing his duty, good form, blah, blah, blah, that he rarely accepted a leave of absence from the king.

Charming smiled and inclined his head. "You deserve it, Captain Jones. Shall we adjourn, my lady?" he asked his wife, offering his arm to her. Snow laughed and accepted, shooting one last look at her daughter.

(Which Emma missed, because she was looking at Killian.)

"Enjoy your vacation, little brother," Liam laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. With that, he departed, leaving Emma and Killian alone in the room.

They embraced again, hastily falling into each others arms like two halves coming together as a whole. Emma kissed him deeply, rubbing her thumb across the stubble that was growing along his cheek. Killian rested his forehead against her, held her close to him, close to his heart.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied. "I'm so, so glad you're home."

He smiled against her lips as they kissed again. And before he knew it, he blurted the words. They came stumbling out of his mouth, against his will, destroying the plan he'd had, but he supposed that was how things would always between him and his love—,

"Emma, will you marry me?"

"_Finally_—yes, of course I will!"

* * *

It took a lot of discussion, many meetings, too many formal assemblies for Killian, and Emma's, taste. King Charming and Queen Snow were on their daughter's side, that she should marry whomever she like, and _they _were the king and queen of the realm, so what they said counted for something.

But the counselors didn't like it, and the other realms were in an uproar—they were expected to maintain trade with The Enchanted Forest, with a sailor as king?

Emma didn't care, she wanted Killian, she _would _marry him, everyone else be damned.

After a while, though, it started to wear on the young captain.

"Emma," he said one night, after an exhausting affair. "Perhaps we ought to…rethink this."

And she'd looked at him with absolute horror in her eyes—no, no he wasn't leaving, not now, they couldn't give up now.

"Don't," she said, meaning for it be a warning, but instead it came out sad and broken. "Don't say that, Killian."

"Do you have _any_ idea what it's like to be told _every single day _that you are not good enough to be with the one you love?" Killian demanded of her.

"But you are," Emma protested. "You are more than good enough. You're everything to me, you know that—,"

"You're the princess," Killian interrupted. "And I'm nothing, I'm no one—,"

"You're my true love." She looked at him, blinking back tears. "Doesn't that count for something?"

But the torture in Killian's eyes was too much, and she looked away.

"I just…I don't think it's enough, love."

* * *

The next day, Captain Killian Jones left on an emergency mission. There was a rumor that he'd left without the commander's, or the king's permission, and that punishable by banishment. There were rumors Killian Jones had forsaken The Enchanted Forest, and turned rogue, turned pirate. All discussion of the princess' future wedding were disbanded. It was said that Emma locked herself in her room and spoke to no one, except her brother.

* * *

When Killian took port in Arendelle, a quiet kingdom known for its strong relationship with the Enchanted Forest. He had expected a simple, quiet evening. He'd expected to drink himself to sleep, drowning in thoughts of Emma, hoping he'd never wake up, never have to return to the Enchanted Forest, where he'd never be allowed to see her again.

But then, like something out of a dream, there she was.

Emma stood on the docks of Arendelle, dressed in a simple shift and long, blue cloak, with a circlet of silver capping her long, golden tresses. She carried a single bag, slung over one shoulder, and barely moved as The Jewel docked itself.

* * *

"_Emma?_" Killian said, incredulously.

"Killian," she replied, quietly.

"What…what are you doing here?" he asked.

Emma met his eyes, "Waiting for you."

Confusing flickered across Killian's features. "But, I don't understand. As future queen, you shouldn't—,"

"I am no longer future queen, Killian," Emma interrupted. Killian stared at her, and she shrugged. "I abdicated the throne; Neal will become king."

"Emma…"

"I never wanted that life, Killian," she told him. "I never wanted to be queen, anyway. So don't you dare stand there and lecture me. I want to be with you and—,"

He had no idea what to say so instead he kissed her, and she kissed him back, and, quite suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. They held on to each other tightly, a silent vow to never be parted again.

* * *

"Where would you like to go first, love?" Killian asked her, the next morning. They stood at the helm of his ship, watching the sun break across the water.

"I've heard of this place, they say it's quite dangerous," Emma said.

"Mhm, what's that?"

She grinned at him, "Neverland."

* * *

OK GOODNIGHT NOW.


End file.
